


of mistletoe & missteps

by remuslupin



Category: Dane Gang - Fandom, Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 18:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6621682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuslupin/pseuds/remuslupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>snippets of the dane gang's shenanigans and adventures in the lead-up to the yule ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of mistletoe & missteps

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to aisu for beta-ing this back in like...january!!!! you're wonderful.

**i. harry & lucien**

“--The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard tournament since its inception. On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests gather in the great hall for _well-mannered_ frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost... a _dance_.”

Harry ( _Osborn_ , not Potter-- he’d be likely to hex anyone who dared to confuse them) hardly ever bothers to tune in to the incessant drone that is his various Professors talking; especially when it’s some pointless _extra_ class that he and his fellow fourth-years have been sent to without any context whatsoever. This time, though, he’s awfully glad he bothered to at least tune in to McGonagall’s spiel halfway through, because it guaranteed in turn that he wouldn’t be in for a rude (and rather confused) shock as the girls began to titter, and the boys groaned out complaints with varying degrees of energy.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can vaguely see Lucien Carr lean forward and start whispering into Kjell Claesson’s ear (Harry can’t hear what they’re saying, but he suspects that the contents of the exchange most likely involve something just as overtly _gay_ as the pair themselves are), and desperately pushes down the pang of jealousy threatening to take over as Lucien places a hand on Kjell’s shoulder.

However, his suffering is thankfully short-lived as McGonagall’s voice cuts through the muted din; successfully drawing Lucien and Kjell from their hushed conversation as she does so. “Mr. Carr, you seem to have plenty to say to Mr. Claesson about this. I seem to remember you telling your classmates that you regularly attend events similar to the Yule Ball with your mother. Shall we put that claim to the test?”

Harry can’t stop the bemused snort that sounds from deep in his throat-- but, unfortunately, it catches the attention of Lucien… and McGonagall. “Why, Mr. Osborn, you, too, seem rather enthused. Perhaps you could show everyone the levels that excitement extends to by joining Mr. Carr over here.”

Both boys sit stock-still, only roused by McGonagall speaking up once more. “Well?”

They scramble to their feet, now, only looking up from the floor to shoot rather dirty glances at each other-- if looks could kill, it would be hard to tell who would have been the first to fall victim to the other's stare. Lucien, being his usual self, makes it a point to only stop after Harry has; thus, the pair only have mere centimetres of space between them after they have both come to a halt.

Almost an eternity passes in the time the boys take to glare across at each other, before they are finally interrupted by their Professor. “Now, Mr. Osborn, place your right hand on Mr. Carr’s waist--”

“Professor, I’m _much_ more comfortable with leading,” Lucien interrupts her smoothly, and Harry vaguely begins to wonder if Carr is half-Veela as he smiles graciously at their Professor. He’s expecting-- or rather, wishing-- for her to say no; but instead, she simply gives a nod.

“Very well, then. Mr. Osborn, place your _left_ hand on Mr. Carr’s _shoulder--_ ”

“Hang on! What if I don’t want to be the _girl_?”

“Just because you’re not leading doesn’t mean you’re the _girl_ , Osborn.” Carr is smirking-- he’s obviously all-too aware of the effect that this is having on Harry, and the Osborn heir finds himself hating just how easily Lucien manages to get underneath his skin.

He knows he’s being taunted-- being _baited--_ but he fights back, anyway. It’s what everyone expects him to do, after all. “Then why don’t you let _me_ lead?”

He’s always, _always_ loved being ever so slightly taller than Lucien (it usually guarantees that he has the physical advantage during their arguments), but has never loathed the fact more than now-- Lucien has used Harry’s height to his advantage by looping his arm around Harry’s waist, and using the other hand to grab Harry’s own.

Carr pulls him close, and shakes his head condescendingly, as if he’s speaking to a goddamn toddler. “Because I _never_ let myself be led. Not by anyone.”

Filch turns the music on, and Harry finds that for a few minutes, he can only focus on the task at hand. Once he’s finally used to it, however-- and he’ll admit, he’s starting to feel a little relieved at the realisation that he was actually delegated the easier job-- he risks glancing up from their feet to instead gaze at Lucien, who’s been looking at ease, and rather bored, the entire time. Damn him.

“You know, Carr; if this is just you implying that you wanted to lead in the bedroom, all you had to do was _tell_ me-- ouch!”

“Sorry, Professor. Perhaps I’m not as good at leading as I thought.” Lucien’s tone is grating as he steps away from Harry (and his now-throbbing foot), not bothering to look at anyone as he brushes past the other two occupants of the dance floor on his way back to his seat.

 

**ii. kjell & lewis**

“--And I don’t _care_ which came first, I just came to pick up my _date--_ ”

“Kjell?”

The aforementioned Hufflepuff is stopped mid-rant by an all-too familiar voice travelling from the door that he had turned his back to halfway through his spiel (and honestly, he’s feeling very glad he wasn’t sorted into Ravenclaw-- he’d probably break down during his first week simply due to not being able to answer the door’s riddles). He isn’t quite sure whether it’s due to the fact that he had turned so quickly, or simply the sight of the boy in front of him; but Kjell suddenly finds himself feeling quite starstruck as his eyes land on Lewis.

“--Hey.”

“Hi.”

Lewis is smiling, now, and it sends a rush of butterflies to Kjell’s stomach as he steps closer to his date for the night. They continue to rest there, fluttering and flapping their wings erratically as he speaks again. “You-- You look _perfect_ , Raincloud.”

“So do you…” Lewis’ cheeks turn as red as the rubies representing house points in the Gryffindor Hourglass as he speaks, and he ducks his head momentarily before reverting his gaze back towards Kjell, and pulling out a wrapped gift from behind his back. Kjell hadn't even _noticed_ that he had been hiding something. “This is for you.”

“For _me_? I don’t have anything for you, though…” That in itself was a blatant lie-- Kjell had in fact purchased a Christmas present for his date; it was just still up in his room, as he had felt much too nervous to bring it.

“It’s fine, I just-- I wanted to give this to you. Take it.” Lewis pushes the gift into Kjell’s hands, and the Hufflepuff student accepts it with a gracious smile before looking down at the package as he unwraps it.

It’s a quartz. But, not exactly the kind of quartz that Kjell is used to. It’s a deep blue, a perfect match with the sky, and has flecks of white scattered along the surface….flecks of white that seem to be moving ever so slowly, much like the snow falling outside. He glances up with furrowed brows, ready to ask Lewis about it, but his date is already speaking.

“It’s enchanted; it’ll change colour and temperature according to the weather.”

Kjell’s entire expression brightens at the explanation, and he pulls Lewis into a tight hug before stepping back and beginning to examine the quartz once more. “This is  _amazing_ , Lewis. Thank you.”

After slipping it into the pocket of his robes, Kjell’s gaze is almost magnetically pulled back to the bespectacled boy as an even wider smile stretches across his lips.

“ _Thank you_. Honestly, this is the best gift I could have asked for-- just being with _you_ this Christmas is the best gift I could have asked for, actually, and I _do_ have a present for you but it’s-- well, I don’t have it _right now_ , but I’ll give it to you later, I really hope you like it....” Too late, he realises that he’s been rambling. “Uh-- Shall we?”

Lewis nods and steps forward in response; but Kjell (having suddenly remembered a promise he had made to his best friend earlier in the day) quickly adds in a disclaimer. “Just a warning-- Lucien will probably drag me off to dance with him at some point.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I suppose I should probably warn _you_ that you might catch me snogging Cormac McLaggen later on, then.”

“Hey!”

Their laughter echoes out into the hallway as Kjell loops his arm around Lewis’ own, and he quickly decides that no matter what kind of decorations Dumbledore has put on display in the Great Hall tonight, Lewis will always be his favourite sight to see.

 

**iii. luna & nelson**

“Daddy says that mistletoe has been known to act as nesting grounds for Wrackspurts, you know.”

Nelson’s gaze is finally dragged away from the decorations and various ornaments that have been artistically littered across the Entrance Hall when Luna speaks up, and before he can stop himself, a (rather fond) sigh has escaped his lips. “The existence of Wrackspurts hasn’t actually been _proven_ yet, Moon Girl. Remember?” He uses the nickname fondly, and watches on as his date’s expression lights up at the chance to further enlighten Nelson on her interests.

“Oh, but they will be _very_ soon! Daddy’s working on a brand new invention called Spectrespecs, and once they’re finished, they’ll make Wrackspurts visible to the naked eye.” She’s nodding sincerely, now, eyes so wide that they may as well have been transplanted from an owl, and Nelson can’t bring himself to do anything except nod right along with her. It would be far too awful of him to disagree.

He’s beginning to look back towards the door leading to the Great Hall, and opens his mouth to ask Luna whether she thinks the Christmas trees will be real or fake this year, but quickly finds himself being interrupted by his friend.

“Ooh, Rachel looks rather lovely tonight, she had only just started getting ready when I had left our room…” Her lilting accent pulls him away from the beginnings of his sentence, and though Nelson opens his mouth once more to ask just who ‘Rachel’ is, his words are simply caught in his throat this time as an absolutely stunning girl pushes her way into his line of vision.

She’s wearing all black, her expression has a rather superior air about it, and Nelson thinks he’s in love.

“That’s-- _that’s_ Rachel?” He’s practically all heart-eyes, now, and watches the ball attendee make her way towards the Great Hall with her date-- some intimidating-looking bloke from Durmstrang.

“Yes. She’s quite pretty, but she won’t listen to me when I tell her that she’d look even better with red hair. Black hair attracts Nargles, you know.”

“I think she’s _perfect_.” And he says it perhaps a little too loudly, because Rachel tilts her head in his direction, now, and it could just be Nelson’s overactive imagination, but he’ll still swear on his grave that the corners of her lips turned up by a fraction before she finally turned and stepped through the large oak doors.

“Well, she’s not _perfect_ , but I hear she’s very smart. Professor Snape doesn’t like her very much, though. She’s always arguing with him about one thing, or another.”

Well, hey; Professor Snape had never been all too fond of _him_ , either. Maybe it was meant to be.

 

**iv. andrew & lucien**

“--Hey! Where are _you_ going?” At first, Andrew thinks a Professor has spotted him trying to leave, and he freezes in his tracks like a deer caught in headlights. After craning his head towards the direction that the voice had come from, though, his entire demeanour relaxes upon realising that it’s only Lucien.

...Oh, _bollocks_. It’s Lucien.

“Lu! I, uh… Was just going to the-- the bathroom.” What a lame excuse.

“You weren’t _leaving_ , were you?” Lucien flashes him a frown as he steps closer and _great_ , now he feels bad.

“I-- no, of course I wasn’t--”

“Well, good! Because you owe me another dance.”

“What are you talking about? I already danced with you!” Andrew protests, but Lucien has already seized his hand, and is beginning to pull him back into the Great Hall.

“You promised me, and I quote, ‘at least _three_ dances’. Don’t tell me I have to use an Unbreakable Vow next time, so you don’t go back on your word…” Lucien raises a brow at him as they move past Kjell and Timbo, and Andrew is quick to shake his head in return.

“No, no… Come on, let’s just get this over with.” The music has transitioned into a rather slower-paced tune, now, and Andrew (feeling all-too aware of the people around them) takes advantage of Lucien’s distraction-- he’s currently looking towards the band-- by stepping a little closer, placing his right hand on the blonde’s waist, and using his left hand to take Lucien’s own.

He may be feeling much too embarrassed to look at his date, but the little hitch of breath that Lucien takes in tells Andrew that he’s managed to take him by surprise. “...Do you even know how to lead?” He hears Lucien asking, and before he’s able to get a verbal response out, Andrew feels his cheeks turning bright red.

“--Looked easy when _you_ did it.” His voice barely comes out as a mumble, but Lucien hears (and grins in response) anyway, prompting Andrew to glue his gaze to their feet. It’s much easier than having to actually _look_ at anyone.

After a few minutes, he begins to feel a little more confident; and although he still can’t quite pluck up the courage to look at Lucien, he thinks his footwork is improving by the second. Coming to the conclusion that now would probably be the best time to progress from simply swaying on the spot to actually moving around a little, he boldly takes a step-- and glances up, accidentally making eye contact with Lucien. The sight of the blonde looking right back at him (with a _smile_ , no less) throws his concentration, and he missteps… causing Lucien to trip over his foot.

His date begins to tip forward, but saves himself at the last moment by colliding with Andrew. Unfortunately, that then throws _Andrew_ off balance, and he immediately falls to the floor-- and drags Lucien down with him, seeing as he hadn’t had the sense to let go of his waist.

Andrew lands on his back, Lucien falls on top of him, and the pair are deathly silent for a moment. Until Lucien starts _laughing_ , that is.

“What-- what are you doing?” Andrew gasps, very aware that his laughter is attracting even more stares. All of a sudden, he can feel his cheeks heat up dangerously, and his hands immediately lift, attempting to cover his face while also trying (and horribly failing) to cover Lucien’s mouth.

Lucien catches his hand easily, and lets out a few more giggles before finally managing to cease long enough to speak once more. “I’m laughing. Because you’re hysterically awkward, and I love it. It also might have something to do with this situation being the funniest I’ve been in all year.”

And that, of course, is just enough to kickstart another round of Andrew’s accidental magic. Before Lucien has time to say anything else, the pair have turned _invisible_ , right in the middle of the dance floor, and it's clear that the blonde has only barely stopped himself from laughing again. “You know, if you don’t make us visible, someone’s probably going to step on us.”

“Being stepped on is better than being _laughed at_!” There’s a horrible twisting in Andrew’s gut, now, and because Lucien doesn’t speak for a few more moments, he’s resigned himself to just taking advantage of his invisibility and using it to escape unnoticed.

“--I wasn’t laughing at you, I was laughing at _both_ of us. You have to admit that we probably looked rather ridiculous-- well, I mean… I bet we did, before we _disappeared_...”

Andrew is silent while he processes this statement, and he forces himself to just _relax--_ causing the accidental spell cast over the pair to lift. Lucien clambers off of Andrew in that awfully graceful way that he somehow manages to do _everything_ with, and after standing up on shaky feet, Andrew sneaks a darting gaze up at the people around them; feeling terribly convinced that there'll be at _least_ several people laughing and pointing at the pair, but…. he quickly finds that he's never been happier to have been proven wrong.

Most of the couples around them seem quite lost in a world of their own, and though (judging by the twinkle in his eye) Andrew suspects that Professor Dumbledore may have seen a few things that amused him greatly, at least their Headmaster isn't actually _laughing_ (unlike his rather _insensitive_ date-- but really, he should have known better).

Which is always a relief.

“...Can we go now?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Killjoy.”

His gaze meets Lucien’s own again now that they’re both visible (and upright) once more, and instead of looking away with a scowl, he offers his date an uneasy smile. Grimace. Thing. Well, at least he had _tried_ to make it look casual.

"Next time, _you_ have to lead again."

"Oh, so there's definitely going to be a next time, is there?"

Lucien bumps his elbow against Andrew's side with a grin, and despite himself, Andrew feels the corners of his lips quirking up into a more genuine smile.

"Piss off."


End file.
